Food Delivery
by Djap
Summary: BETAD Arthur x Eames, Arthur is too thin. So Eames brings him food


**FOOD DELIVERY**

**AN INCEPTION FANFICTION**

**PAIRING: **Arthur x Eames

**AUTHOR: **Djap

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the boys and I won't make any money with them. Promise.

**RATING**: PG 13 – for two guys kissing

**GENRE**: First Time, Romance, h/c (kind of)

**LANGUAGE**: English

**DEDICATION: **for my fantastic Beta-reader Neenabluegirl; you were my muse, because you liked Caring!Eames and you wanted Eames stuffing too-thin-Arthur with food. Well, here it comes ;)

**A/N: **This was supposed to be another part of the Epiphany-Drabble-Series, but what should I say? I'm from Saarland in Germany and we absolutely love food and eating. I just couldn't restrict myself to a special word count when writing about food. Really, I can't. That would be like trying to stop breathing or something like that. We love food! Perhaps I'll try it again another time…

**WARNING**: Do not read this if you happen to have still an empty stomach. I've been told that's a really bad idea… ;)

…

**Food Delivery**

**a Djap story**

…

**Day 1**

"Darling, are you hungry?"

The question was very strange and was also delivered by none other than Eames, so the only eloquent answer Arthur could give in his surprise was: "Huh?"

That brought a smirk to the forger's lips as he patiently repeated his earlier question: "I asked, if you were hungry, darling. I haven't seen you eat something the whole day."

Arthur's stomach rumbled at the reminiscence of food, but thankfully Eames was too far away to hear it. "No." Arthur lied, because he was used to eating irregularly. It was nothing new. "I need to work."

"You're working yourself to death." The forger said before leaving without so much as a good bye.

…

Arthur needed about one hour to realize that Eames' had left a bag for him. That was pretty odd, because Arthur was the point man for god's sake and was supposed to be aware of everything that happened around him. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly and for a short moment the question crossed his mind, whether Eames might be right in this. He probably was working too hard lately, but somebody needed to keep Cobb safe and he seemed to be the only one who cared enough to do that.

Arthur stood from his desk and made his way over to look into the bag. Inside he found two apples, a pear, grapes, two bananas and an orange. At the bottom of the bag there was also a small collection of juices. Arthur lifted an eyebrow at that, but then he shrugged it off.

He grabbed an apple and an orange juice out of the bag and made his way back to his desk. He devoured both items in a rush and went back for a banana before he got back to work.

**Day 2**

"Good evening, darling."

Arthur looked up startled from his work. He hadn't even heard Eames enter this time and after shortly analyzing the situation he realized that he should probably sleep tonight more than just his usual three hours, if he was this distracted.

"What do you want?" he asked curtly, already halfway back to analyzing the latest data of their mark.

"Can't a guy just visit another guy without wanting anything?" Eames asked with his usual smirk firmly in place.

Arthur just gave him a look and Eames mouth snapped shut, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"What. Do. You. Want?" Arthur asked again, each word sounding like a deadly blow.

Eames didn't even bat an eye at it. In respect to Arthur's usual behavior, he was pretty civil to him today, so the Brit obviously decided to humor the man.

"I bring you food." He lifted his arm from which the same bag that Arthur had inspected the day before was dangling. His eyes automatically darted to the place he'd seen it the last time and he realized, that Eames must have retrieved it without him noticing.

He must have slept deeper than usual too if he never even heard the man come in while he was sleeping on the sofa

"I don't want it." Arthur said and knew he sounded like a defiant child.

Eames facial expression never changed as he answered: "We'll see about that." He put the bag on a shelf and vanished.

…

Arthur's stomach rumbled and his nose itched. Eames had been gone now for half an hour, but the food he'd left standing in the point man's makeshift office of their hideout, was slowly driving him mad. It smelled heavenly, like shrimp and lemongrass and rice. If he judged this right, Eames must have brought the team's favorite Chinese takeout.

Arthur loved Chinese takeout. Still, he didn't want to eat any of the food. The last thing he needed in his life was someone telling him when or what to eat. His mother had tried to do that for years and the only thing she ever managed to accomplish was that he ate even less. It was bad enough that he'd eaten the fruit the day before and he certainly wouldn't give in to this now.

He wouldn't.

Never.

He stared at the bag, his mouth watering. The bag stared innocently back and smelled like heaven.

Damn it.

Arthur rose, took the bag and threw it into the garbage, before resuming his seat at the desk. He waited about half a minute before quickly hurrying back, pulling the bag out off the garbage, taking the box with the food and the chopsticks out and guzzling it down as if there were no tomorrow.

**Day 3**

As Arthur woke that morning the first thing he did was check the whereabouts of the bag. Of course it was gone and Arthur couldn't believe he'd missed it again, although he had been warned beforehand this time. The now empty box of the Chinese takeout and the chopsticks were also gone, leaving his desk clean and ready for work, which was exactly the way he liked it.

He went to the toilet, brushed his teeth and instead of starting his day at the desk he dressed for a run. After eating all this food the night before he really needed to do something for his body. Afterwards he took a shower and still didn't start to work. Instead he took a taxi to a friend of his who had this excellent, hidden shooting range and he felt the need to practice his abilities.

…

When Eames entered Arthur's office he saw that Arthur was in an excellent mood. As soon as the forger entered the room, Arthur looked up sharply and looked quite pleased about it too. Whatever Arthur had done during the day, while Eames was gone, must have been something good for him. He certainly hadn't worked himself to death slaving over the notes on the latest mark for once.

"Go away, Eames and take that damn bag with you."

Arthur said, but Eames didn't need to be a con-man to see that the point man's heart wasn't in it. That was a surprising turn of event, because Arthur never tolerated Eames near, usually not even when he was in a good mood and Eames was being extra nice to him. Eames felt a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but he managed to suppress the spontaneous show of affection. Instead he put on his usual smirk, and watched Arthur try not to look too obviously at the bag in his hands.

It was kind of funny to do that, because Arthur looked like a child who wanted a treat and like a grown-up who chided the same child for wanting something it shouldn't. The inner conflict made Arthur's face scrunch up in a hilarious way and Eames' smirk even broadened.

"I'll leave you to your work then." Eames said and set the bag deliberately slow on the shelf.

…

"Crap." Arthur cursed after two more hours of work. He'd hoped he would be able to resist the tempting prospect of the bag and its smells wouldn't be able to get to him if he did so many things he liked better than working at his desk. Well, obviously he'd assessed the situation wrong.

Again.

Damn it.

This time he knew better then to try throwing the bag in the garbage. Instead he took it and brought it outside to leave it in the kitchen, where the always hungry Yusuf would find it and hopefully destroy it. There was a problem though. His hand just wouldn't separate from the bag once Arthur had arrived in the kitchen. It seemed as if it had gotten a mind of his own and was mutinying against its owner.

"Crap. Crap. Crap." Arthur cursed again just to be surprised by Ariadne's arrival in the kitchen.

"Are you alright?" The young woman asked and looked as if he'd finally lost it. Well, probably he had.

"I'm fine." He growled, still wrestling with his own hand. He must look pretty funny right now, but there was no avoiding it.

Ariadne frowned and inspected closely, what exactly he was doing right now.

"Oh," she said ridiculously relieved "you just want a plate for the food Eames bought you."

Arthur blinked at her and blurted stupidly. "You know about that?"

Ariadne giggled. "Of course. Cobb gave him today off, but he still dropped by to deliver your food."

"Really?" Arthur seemed to be stuck with the stupid questions today, but in the light of this confession, he couldn't be bothered to actually care.

Ariadne rolled her eyes.

"Duh. Why would I lie to you?"

That was a good question, especially as Ariadne was still a very bad liar, despite her work as architect for the team.

"No reason. I was just surprised." Arthur finally hurried to say.

"Do you need help with the bag?" Ariadne asked thankfully unconcerned by the strange turn of events. "You seem to be struggling with the fastenings."

Arthur felt himself nod stupidly again and watched as Ariadne easily opened the bag with deft fingers. She pulled a carton of pizza out, with four cheeses, artichokes, olives and pepperonis, which was of course, Arthur's favorite kind of pizza. She also pulled out a plate for Arthur and placed the pizza on it.

She gave the plate over to Arthur, who dutifully took it and muttered his thanks. On his way back to his office, where he would devour the whole pizza without a doubt, Arthur made sure to grab the bag and place it on the shelf.

**Day 4**

"Food's on me today."

Saito said beaming and rubbed his hands together. Their latest raid had been a full success, and the whole team was in an exceedingly giddy and good mood, high on adrenaline. On top of it Arthur had been allowed by Cobb to shoot Eames to make him wake up, which had made this an exceptional good day for Arthur. He'd felt pretty much exuberant about the whole shooting Eames affair and blamed it on the stupid Eames-food-affair.

This whole thing needed to stop, immediately.

A few feet away from him Eames was still pouting about getting shot in the head by Arthur but seemed to be pretty happy about the prospect of going out to a Japanese restaurant. Arthur knew that Eames loved Japanese food, as the man had lived in the country for quite a while. Back when they'd first met, Arthur had of course checked who he was actually dealing with before giving his okay to Cobb.

He'd been impressed with the forger's abilities to blur his tracks. There wasn't much Arthur could find about him, and he was one of the best in the business. Arthur had the distinct feeling that the few things he actually knew about Eames past, he'd been allowed to learn.

…

"Will you dance with me, Arthur?" Ariadne had asked her eyes big and round and of course Arthur couldn't refuse such a cute offer. All of them were wasted, even Cobb, as they celebrated their success.

They were both ungraceful tipsy when they finally reached the dance floor and gave up trying to dance with each other without falling about ten minutes later.

When they arrived back at the table Arthur realized, that Eames was gone. As Arthur asked Cobb about it, he received a stern look and a "What do you think, Arthur?"

Of course Eames had repeatedly asked Arthur to dance with him, but he had just been teasing him, right? Eames was just being his usual flirty self and wanted nothing more than to annoy Arthur, right?

Right?

…

For once Arthur decided to sleep in his actual room at the hotel Saito had booked for them. They'd shared all the same taxi anyway, and he was too drunk to tell the driver a different direction back to the makeshift hideout. The bed felt nice and Arthur didn't bother with removing any of his clothes. He just wanted to crawl under the covers and go to sleep.

Half an hour later Arthur was getting really depressed as he was still wide awake but terribly tired. Despite the alcohol he'd consumed this was nothing like his usual bedtime, so his body was still wide awake. Sadly he couldn't work either, because first, he wasn't good at that when drunk and second all his notes where back at the hideout anyway.

That left him wide awake with nothing to do but thinking and that was something he really didn't want to do. It made him wonder why he'd refused Ariadne's offer.

She hadn't left it at just dancing and had tried to kiss him later and make him go with her to her room. She was lovely and cute and beautiful; usually he would have been all over her. But his kind but stern refusal had been quicker than his actual thinking about it. He was even more surprised when she sighed sadly and looked away.

"I figured, you wouldn't. Just wanted to give it a try. Don't worry about it."

And she was off, leaving him to puzzle about what the hell that was supposed to mean.

But the most annoying thing about the whole thing was Arthur's stomach which kept rumbling all night, despite the exceedingly good food it had been stuffed with all evening. Arthur should be sated, but he just couldn't stop wondering why he was still pondering what would have been in Eames' bag if they hadn't left for the restaurant.

**Day 5**

Arthur's head felt rotten when he woke up. His tongue was glued to his palate, his eyes hurt and the lights of the room are not only all wrong but also much too bright.

"What the…"

The memories of the night before came back crushing in and Arthur remembered having drunk way too much. After his sudden cause of insomnia he'd finally fallen asleep in the wee hours of the new day and probably now had the worst hangover ever.

So Arthur made himself stand up, stumble to the bathroom and start a very thorough cleaning routine. An hour later and after some pills, which were supposed to make him feel human again he was still feeling really bad instead. He took in his runny nose and the occasional coughing fit and realized, he must have caught a cold the night before.

So he had even more pills for breakfast and went to work, because that's what he usually did when he was sick. He ignored it.

…

"You look like shit." Eames said when he arrived at the usual time with the usual bag in his hands.

('Usual'? Why 'usual'? Arthur must be really sick if he considered doing things three times in a row as 'usual'.)

"Go away." Arthur rasped not managing to sound in the least convincing.

To his surprise Eames was gone when he looked up the second time. With disappointment, Arthur saw that the bag was gone too.

'It was better this way' he tried to tell himself.

So why did Arthur feel annoyed that Eames seemed to have finally gotten the message?

…

"Here, have a few drops of this, darling." Eames said when he returned to Arthur's office about an hour later. Without giving it a second thought Arthur opened his mouth obediently and swallowed the medicine on the spoon, which Eames was holding in front of his face.

If he hadn't been so sick, he'd probably feel aghast at his own behavior, because seriously – with someone like Eames, this could have been poison, right? Never trust a forger, because it could get you killed before you even could say 'damn'.

The medicine was good though and coated his throat with a thick film, finally helping him to stop coughing. It was pure bliss.

"Stand up for me, will you?" Eames said and again, Arthur followed the command without thinking. A warm, plushy bathrobe was placed around his shoulders and was tied in front of his belly. It smelled faintly like Eames cologne and the bright green color hurt Arthur's eyes, but besides that it was probably the most comfortable bathrobe he'd ever worn.

"You can sit back down." Arthur plopped down on his backside and stared at his notes in front of him. He felt dizzy and he couldn't concentrate on the letters, as they kept doing a boogie in front of his eyes. He kept staring at them anyway because he didn't know where else to look.

A mouth watering smell suddenly hit his nostrils and they flared in appreciation. A hot, steaming cup was pressed into his right hand and suddenly he felt eight years old again and pampered by his mother. He missed her too much to say something cruel to Eames in revenge. She died when he was nine, and afterwards he hadn't been the same.

"Now drink your broth and tomorrow, you'll be as good as new." Eames said, puttering about beside him. A thermos was placed beside Arthur's notes and the flask with the medicine together with a spoon. "Take twenty drops of this every two hours." The forger instructed and checked Arthur's temperature. "Make it thirty drops if the fever gets worse."

Arthur nodded dumbly following Eames form as the forger slowly made his way over to the door.

"Good night, darling." He said and a second later the forger was gone.

Arthur stared after him confused.

The whole day long just about everyone had tried to make him stop working. Even Saito had bothered to tell him he should go home. Only Eames hadn't said a word. For all his complaining that Arthur didn't eat enough, didn't sleep enough, worked himself to death, he hadn't said a single thing about it today.

Somehow, this realization made Arthur feel warm all over and he had a slight suspicion, this hadn't to do anything with his fever.

**Day 6**

"Is there food in your bag?" Arthur asked, back to his usual self. The broth and the medicine had done wonders on his health and he was back to his regular working routine.

"Of course, darling." Eames smirked.

"What is it?" Arthur wanted to know and knew it was futile to pretend he didn't. Obviously the forger could read him like an open book anyway.

"Belgian chocolate."

"Dark?"

"Of course, darling."

That was Arthur's favorite kind. Slowly the point man was beginning to see a pattern, but then again, it couldn't be, so he dismissed the thought right again.

"Well, I need to work. Leave it at the door and go away." Arthur said curtly instead of what he really wanted to say.

Eames smirk never faltered.

"As you wish, darling."

In the blink of an eye Eames was gone, the bag sitting firmly in its usual place.

…

This time, when Eames was long gone and Arthur tried to eat the fine chocolate, he really felt no hunger for the sweets. There was only one thing he was suddenly hungry for and he should probably feel bad that as point man he never realized those strong feelings creeping up on him sooner.

"Strange." He muttered stuffing himself with another piece of chocolate.

**Day 7**

Eames never had the chance to deliver whatever food was to be found in his usual bag. When he entered Arthur's office at the expected time, he was practically tackled by the point man. Arthur pushed him against the next wall to kiss him fiercely. From then on it was just a matter of a few seconds and some severe struggling before they found their way into a horizontal position on the floor.

…

"I still don't get why you bought me all this food." Arthur said into the satisfied silence, enjoying the afterglow of his most recent orgasm.

Eames' middle finger traced lines of love on Arthur's still sweaty and sticky abdomen as the forger huffed and rolled his eyes. "Because I care, you idiot."

And that was that.

…

**Endless End**

**Finished 15****th****October 2010 **


End file.
